


Shoot to Thrill

by FormidableChronicler



Series: Iron Friendship [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Natasha Romanov, F/M, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt Tony Stark, Male-Female Friendship, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark Friendship, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:26:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14665212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormidableChronicler/pseuds/FormidableChronicler
Summary: Can Nat and Tony's newfound friendship survive a disastrous night out?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH to everyone who bookmarked, Kudos'd or commented on my first fic, "Clearing the Ledger!" Because of your kind words I felt motivated to write another Tony/Nat friendship fic. (Although things get MUCH more dark and twisty this time around, please be warned! Poor Nat and Tony...)  
> You don't necessarily need to read the first work in this series to figure out what's going on, but it might be helpful to get some of the background.   
> This fic takes place between Homecoming and Infinity War (Which I am still not over, so apparently I deal with my feelings with Nat/Tony. Could be worse!)

She was ruthless.

Natasha's hands were quick and precise, allowing no room for error. Her face was completely blank; she stared straight ahead and did not move until perfection was achieved.

Then she stepped back, and scrutinized the elaborate updo.

It would work.

She added a few extra hairpins (you never knew when they could come in handy), then shook her head a few times to ensure the hairstyle would stay still. Satisfied she had not a strand out of place, she slid knives into her wrist sheaths, and a pistol into her ankle holster.

Natasha Romanoff stepped out of her room and made her way down the hall, listening for the sounds that would let her know where Tony Stark waited.

She didn't have to listen hard.

"I'm gonna be gone for one night and this place better be in pristine condition when I get back. No, scratch that, it will be better than pristine, it will be immaculate. Do you got me, Guy in the Chair?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark." 

"If I come home and step on a Lego, I will freak. Those things are torture toys. I have no desire to writhe in pain today, so clean them up."

"Okay, Mr. Stark." 

"And if you eat all my ice cream again, kid, there is no force on this earth that will keep you safe from me."

There was a muffled laugh. "I won't, I promise. Sorry about last time, Mr. Stark."

Natasha stepped around the corner, leaned against the doorframe, and smiled at Peter Parker and his best friend Ned Leeds. "Are you done lecturing the children, Tony?"

"No, I'm just getting started. Don't give me those puppy dog eyes, Parker, you aren't staying here unattended unless you follow all 910 rules I have established."

"They're hardly going to be unattended, Stark." Natasha said, nodding her head at Vision, who sat in the corner of the communal living room, pointedly trying not to eavesdrop on the exchange. But she saw the amusement in his eyes. "Between Vision, Rhodey, and FRIDAY, they will have more supervisors here than they do at home."

"I have a lot more stuff for them to get into," Tony said darkly. "But they will not be getting into any of my stuff, will they? Not if one of them wants to become an Avenger someday."

"Mr. Stark, we were gonna upgrade the Spidey suit-"

"But we can wait until you get back and work on it tomorrow," Ned said hastily. At Peter's whispered "Dude!" He hissed, "I am not making Tony Stark mad!"

"Always listen to your Guy in the Chair, kid," Tony said, patting Peter's shoulder. Then he turned to Natasha. "Are you ready now, Romanoff? You look nice, by the way, which is good since you took an extra twenty minutes longer to get ready than I did. But you're all set now? Made sure you have all your handmaiden of death supplies?"

"I could go grab another gun."

"No, no guns! We are going to a fundraising gala, Romanoff, what is wrong with you? How many guns do you have on?"

She shrugged. "Just the one."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know you better than that. What else are you packing?"

"A couple of my favorite knives, several deadly hairpins, and my heels."

Ned and Peter gaped at her. Tony only sighed. "The hairpins can stay, but we're going through security and you're gonna light up like Christmas. Lose the gun and knives. I'll get you some of Pepper's shoes."

"These match my outfit," she said, and crossed her arms. "No one will know this is the deadly pair, Stark, it will be fine."

"No. Absolutely not. You're going to this with me so we can try and work on your image and make the public happy you're an Avenger again, and that won't happen if you wear the shoes that are capable of decapitating someone."

Her lips twitched. "But I only decapitate bad guys."

"For the love of---Romanoff, are you messing with me? You are," he accused, fidgeting with a cuff link, then pulling on his sunglasses. "Don't mess with me Nat, it's been a long week. Pepper is gone and we have to smile and deal with the press tonight, and I cannot handle you wearing the damn shoes, so could you please pretend for one evening you aren't capable of murdering everyone in the room?"

"How many gadgets are you wearing right now, Tony?"

"That is not the--"

"Boss is wearing a new reactor prototype, his multifunctional ring, and his gauntlet watch, Agent Romanoff," FRIDAY said.

Nat lifted an eyebrow while Tony seethed.

"A new reactor prototype?"

"Fry, you're an absolute traitor. I'm uninstalling you the moment I get home and replacing you with JOCASTA."

"No you won't, Boss."

"Just see if I won't," Tony muttered. He turned back to Natasha. "Fine, wear the shoes. But if someone ends up headless, Romanoff, I'm siccing Pepper's PR team on you. This time the bad press is not gonna be my fault."

"I wouldn't say that yet, Tony, the night's still pretty young."

"Ha." He turned back to the two teenagers. "Bedtime's at 11!"

He smirked at the protests being shouted at that statement and strode out of the room. Because he had a point about security, Natasha quickly removed her knives and guns, told Peter where Tony stored the extra ice cream at, and followed.

 

 

She slipped into the silver Audi and closed the door behind her, careful of her dress. It was longer than she preferred, but Pepper insisted it should be the dress she wore, and Nat could always rip the bottom half off if she needed to run.

Stark started the car and roared off down the narrow road that led in and out of The Compound. Natasha didn't blink when he cranked the wheel sharp enough to make two of the tires lift. Instead she sat and waited until they were on a straight road and Tony seemed a little less maniacal.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" She asked, tilting her head.

"Why would something be wrong?"

"You're gripping the steering wheel like it's an enemy's neck. And you were a little harsh on the teenage wonders back there."

"The last time May asked me to let the little ingrates stay the night they made an unholy mess of my workshop and ate all my ice cream."

Natasha just waited.

He sighed, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel a little. "It's been a bad week, and I miss Pepper. Her birthday is tomorrow. She's never away on her birthday, but she couldn't avoid it this time."

"So, you'll celebrate when she gets back. And then she can pretend to like whatever ridiculously elaborate gift you bought her since she had to work on her birthday."

He pressed his lips together in a firm line. "First of all, Pepper loves my gifts. And do not bring up the goddamn bunny, I've gotten much better at gifts since then." He sighed." And that's not why she doesn't want to be away. Her birthday is a hard time for her. Brings back bad memories."

"Of what?"

He didn't answer. Nat studied him, noticing the way his jaw was clenched, and racked her brain, trying to understand why the CEO would dislike her birthday.

It only took a few moments.

"Your soirée in Afghanistan," she said, using the term he flippantly used to describe his three months in captivity. In the files Coulson had written up, she remembered him stating something about Stark being grabbed the day after Pepper's birthday. The three months he had been gone had been hell on both of them.

Tony nodded, jerking his head harshly up and down. 

"Why didn't you go on this trip with her?"

He inhaled sharply, fidgeting with his watch while he drove. "The Accords."

"What?"

"Things are better since Ross was arrested, Romanoff, but a few countries still don't want me just barreling in without asking."

"We can't even take vacations now? I thought we fixed the Accords so we didn't have to worry about that."

"We did. Vacations are fine, as long as we leave our gear behind."

Ah. She was beginning to understand the problem. "And you don't go anywhere without your suits."

He removed his eyes from the road long enough to glance at her. "No. Can you blame me?"

Since she was attending a fundraiser with heels on that could decapitate someone, she supposed she really couldn't. "You're also well known for always having your armor."

He sighed. "Yeah. Rock, hard place. Pepper told me to stay, to work on the Avenger image and let her negotiate this energy deal we've been working on, and we can take a vacation when she gets back. But it's been rough."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

He shrugged. "Could be worse. At least I'm not actually at the soirée this year or falling out of a wormhole. So that's something."

"Wanna skip the gala?"

"Yes," he said instantly, making her laugh. "But Pepper left FRIDAY with strict orders. If we try and wiggle out of it, the damn AI will call Pep. And then she'll send the PR team after me."

"Well, we can't have that," Natasha said dryly. "We can always cut our appearance short, say we're desperately needed for a top secret Avenging reason."

"Good idea. I knew I kept you around for a reason."

"You keep me around because I scare away the reporters."

"That too."

 

 

Unfortunately, not even her ability to scare the reporters held them back as she and Tony arrived at the event, and Tony popped on his sunglasses.

The cameras went crazy when the Audi pulled up. People watching from the sidelines held their cell phones out, and the screams and catcalls could be made out through the car's sound reducing interior.

"Here we go," Tony muttered, and opened the door.

Nat watched him for a moment. His demeanor changed the instant he stepped out of the car. Gone was the tired and weary inventor. In his place the untouchable Tony Stark beamed, waving at the crowd and posing for the cameras.

Nat opened her door, slid out after him. Briefly wishing for her own pair of sunglasses, she smiled, playing the game. There were still a few people upset that she had come back to the Avengers. Her plan was to win the majority over before the end of the night.

She leaned forward to wave and answer a question when cold skittered down her back.

Natasha froze, ignoring the reporter, tuning out the shouts and cheers. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up.

"Agent Romanoff?" The reporter asked, her smile faltering. She took a step back, unnerved by the sudden gleam in the super-spy's eyes. 

Nat turned her attention back to the reporter, plastered a smile back on her face.

But as she flicked a quick glance over at Stark to make sure he remained unharmed, she was very grateful she had kept her shoes.

For she knew with every fiber of her being that someone she wasn't going to like stood hidden in the shadows of the alley, watching.


	2. Chapter 2

She didn't say anything at first. 

Descending the staircase leading into a grand ballroom with Tony, she kept the smile on her face. When Stark introduced her to a few business colleagues she really couldn't care less about, she participated in the conversation, and nearly got a job offer from one of them when she gave her opinion on matching gifts and the possibilities of tax cuts.

But the whole time she kept her back to the wall, so she could easily see the exits. 

Finally they took a break and headed to the bar. Natasha ordered a glass of wine and shifted so she could see the door.

They stood there in silence for a bit, enjoying their drinks in the quiet. Natasha was grateful, it gave her face a chance to relax from constantly smiling. Her eyes roamed the room, looking for the reason that made every inch of her stay on high alert.

Tony watched her, took the last sip of his scotch, then declared, "Lets go dance."

"What?"

"Let's dance. You're a ballerina, Romanoff, you should be familiar with it. Come on."

"Is now really the best-"

"Dancing keeps us from having to schmooze for a bit and I need at least ten more minutes before making the rounds with the vultures again. Gimme a break, dance with me." Those brown eyes twinkled at her. "Please?"

"You're incorrigible." But she smiled and let him lead her to the dance floor.

The song was slow, and lovely. Nat slid her arms into place around Tony, trying to recall the last time she had been asked to dance.

The fact that she couldn't remember was slightly depressing.

She'd thought, for a little while, she might get to do fun and normal things like this with Bruce. Even though Bruce was likely to step on her toes. She knew he wasn't big on being around a lot of people, and with good reason, but she'd daydreamed about dancing and flirting with him in the lab. Especially flirting. He flustered so easily. 

It was a good six months after his disappearance before she banished those daydreams for good.

She let Tony lead, doing her best to keep her eyes on the exits. She was taller than him in her heels, so that helped a little. He didn't seem to care, but he had to be used to dancing with Pepper. And even though nearly everyone in the room still watched them, he did seem more relaxed.

After their second spin, Tony leaned forward to murmur in her ear.

"All right, Romanoff. It's your turn to spill. What's going on?"

She knew she hadn't been obvious, dammit. But she always forgot that Stark noticed more than most. She debated blowing him off, telling him everything was fine. She knew he hadn't been lying when he said he'd had a bad week. It wasn't the sort of thing he admitted easily, and she really didn't want to make it worse.

However. If something went down and she'd lied, it would set back the progress they'd made since Natasha came back to the Avengers. The shaky trust that had steadied and grown, leading to them being able to dance comfortably with one another at a fundraiser would be shattered. Again. 

"I've got a bad feeling," she said quietly. 

His eyes snapped to hers. "How bad? Slightly bad? Or I should've brought the actual armor bad?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"Fuck." He huffed out a breath. "Okay, well this new prototype should be able to pull off quite a lot. And you've got the killer high heels." He paused. "What do you want to do?"

"Prowl around. See if I can find anything."

"That might be a bit hard to do here."

"Not if someone provides a pretty good distraction."

He held her gaze, then his lips twitched. "Yeah, what the hell. Party was getting boring anyway. I could spice it up a bit."

 

 

She never doubted that Tony could cause quite the spectacle, but even she had to admire his capabilities this time.

Skirting around the crowd, he hopped right up on stage with the band and sent them a brilliant grin. 

"Hey! Good evening everyone, welcome to this super amazing fundraiser which I technically have nothing to do with whatsoever. But we're here for a good cause, and it's never a bad thing to raise a few more dollars as needed, so who's up for a little impromptu auction?"

Natasha could have sworn she heard the event coordinator behind her curse in horror. 

"We don't have bid sheets or anything so I'm gonna need someone to take notes. Hey you! Jon Snow look-alike. Wanna make a few bucks? I've got a lot of stuff and we gotta get people interested. Where should I start? Who wants to do a meet and greet with the Avengers?"

Natasha slipped out of the ballroom while the bidding started.

Not much was to be found in the halls. The staff working the event had all rushed to the ballroom to figure out what Tony was doing and to see how they were going to be able to adjust to his little auction. She would have to remind him to send the Event and catering company a "Sorry I'm an impulsive billionaire" card later. 

All the guests hurried to see what they could get from Tony Stark. Even the bathrooms were practically empty.

She moved through the kitchen, nodding at the few that remained there working, and headed to the library.

Only a few lamps were on, illuminating the room in soft, warm light. A fire crackled at the far end, and if circumstances had been different, Natasha would have considered sinking down on the couch in front of the fire with a book. Perhaps when they got back to The Compound, if the evening ended well, she could do just that. Tony hadn't been wrong when he said she would love Game of Thrones.

The creak of the floorboard barely made a sound, but Natasha heard it. She whirled, grabbing at a hairpin as a figure stepped into the room. 

The two studied each other for a moment.

The intruder was dressed head to toe in a black suit similar to her Black Widow outfit. The curves indicated that the person was a woman. A mask covered her face and hair, not giving Nat much else to go off of. The mask was black, and reminded Natasha a bit of the Black Panther - though it wasn't feline shaped and there were definitely no car ears. Only a dark, blank helmet making her identity obscure.

"I didn't realize we had a costume option tonight," Nat said lightly. 

The woman said nothing. She flicked her wrists, and a pair of daggers appeared in her hands.

"Is that how you greet everyone you meet in a library, or are you just happy to see me?"

The woman responded by throwing a dagger at her. 

Natasha dodged it easily, then spun around, and snatched it up.

"Thanks for the knife," she smirked.

The woman responded by charging, slicing her remaining dagger at Nat. Natasha danced back, then lashed out with a strike of her own.

The woman twisted, avoiding Nat's blade, and kicked at Natasha's knee.

Her kneecap screamed, but Natasha kept her balance and swung her left arm out, aiming for her attacker's face with the hairpin. Her hit was blocked, and she dropped the pin, so Nat tried again with her other arm, aiming her dagger at her attacker's neck.

She was blocked again, and the woman shifted, getting a lucky hit in to Natasha's cheek. For a moment, Nat saw stars; her cheekbone had just barely recovered from being shattered by Ross not long ago. 

A glint of silver snapped her back to reality, and Natasha drove her forearm up and into her attacker's wrist before she could carve into Nat's face.

The woman spun, using the force from her spin to kick out. Nat quickly stepped back, narrowly missing a boot in her teeth. She jabbed her dagger forward, and was blocked. She let go of her knife, caught it in her other hand, and jabbed again.

The intruder caught Natasha's wrist just in time---the Black Widow's blade was inches away from her face.

With a yell the woman shoved at Nat, nearly knocking her off balance again, but Natasha was quick on her feet.

They flew at each other, swirling nightmares of blades and death. Their attacks were evenly delivered and blocked---for each strike Natasha landed she received an equally harsh one in return. Her forearms screamed each time she swung them up to block the woman's blade. She tried again to advance, and the woman grabbed her arm. They stood locked like that for a moment, Natasha's dagger once again inches from the intruder's masked face.

The woman kicked at Nat's knees again.

Nat jerked back, but dropped her dagger. She shifted her arms so that she gripped the woman's wrists in her hands and swung her attacker around, attempting to get her close enough to throw into the wall.

It didn't work. The woman caught on, and yanked her arms down, making Natasha jerk forward with her. The woman twisted, pulling Nat to her left, then kicked her leg back and up, somehow managing to kick Natasha in the head.

She hissed through the explosion of pain and whirled. She knocked the dagger out of her opponents hand then followed it up with a kick to the woman's chest, grinning at her bellow of pain. Those damn shoes were hard to fight in, but came in so handy. 

The woman recovered, surging forward to try and land a kick of her own. Nat dodged and side-stepped them all, then pummeled forward. 

The woman backtracked, desperately trying to fend off Natasha's attack, but Nat finally got the upper hand. She backed the woman up to the coffee table, spinning and kicking out so that her assailant took another harsh kick in the chest. She toppled into the coffee table, and Nat stood over her with a triumphant grin.

She kicked off her shoes, then picked them up, prepared to use them if the woman tried anything tricky.

"Nice try, but I'm not so easy to take down. Now, let's see who you are, and what---"

She cut off as the woman grabbed something off her belt and lifted her arm.

Nat had a moment to think, "shit!" horrified it was a grenade.

It was only a small, black, cylinder. The woman pressed the red button on the top, and started to laugh.

Nat went to lunge, prepared to yank the object out of the woman's hands, or at least use her deadly shoes, before there was any damage.

But her body wouldn't move.

She was frozen, paralyzed from head to toe, and her ears were screaming, ringing with a vicious intensity that made her surprised her eardrums didn't shatter. Her face slackened, and she felt like all the blood had been drained right out of her, as if she had been shot a long time ago and the blood had left her body without her realizing.

Her brain was on fire, and she couldn't breathe, her chest couldn't rise and fall. She silently strangled, trying to move, trying to gasp, but the fire in her brain grew and she couldn't control any of it.

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't move, she couldn't--

The woman stood up, still laughing as she yanked off her mask and stepped into Natasha's line of sight.

"This is the Black Widow everyone is so afraid of?" 

And Natasha's insides turned to ice. She knew that voice, she knew the face that smirked over at her as she looked Natasha over from head to toe.

Understood why the two of them had been so evenly matched, and why it had taken Nat so long to best her.

The woman pushed her blonde hair out of her eyes, folded her arms, and sneered.

"Hello, Natalia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am by no means a fighter of any sort, so I based Nat's fight with the Woman in Black on a very awesome fight between Black Widow's and Elektra's stunt-doubles for the blocking of this scene. I do not own the rights to this at all (and to be honest, my scene is nowhere near as cool as their fight).  
> If you're interested in watching, it can be found here :) 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BhrKiyH1SCM


	3. Chapter 3

Yelena Belova lifted an eyebrow. "What's the matter, Natalia? You usually have such a smart mouth."

Natasha would have enjoyed wiping the smirk right off the other woman's face, but though she was regaining the ability to breathe, she was still unable to otherwise move.

Which meant she had no way of stopping Yelena when the woman cocked her fist back, and sent a punishing blow to Nat's nose.

She felt the snap, the break. Stars exploded into her vision, blood gushed out of her nose, and she could do absolutely nothing as Yelena followed the punch up with another jab, hitting Natasha so hard in the face she toppled over backward, unable to do anything but stare up at the ceiling.

Yelena scoffed. "If I had known this device would have rendered you truly helpless, I would have come after you with it a long time ago." She reached down and grabbed Natasha by the neck. Then she heaved Nat to her feet and all but threw her onto the sofa Natasha had imagined relaxing onto not ten minutes ago. 

"We need to talk, Natalia," Yelena said, propping Nat up so she sat on the couch. "I have some questions, and you will give me what I want. Then I will kill you."

Natasha only glared at her. How the hell was she supposed to answer questions when she couldn't speak?

"You need to listen only for now. Then we'll worry about making you speak," Yelena said. She stood, walking over to the floor where the daggers had fallen and picked them up. 

"You know I am still quite angry with you," Yelena commented, twirling a dagger around. "Enough so that keeping you alive at the moment is very difficult. I'm tempted to just murder you and get the answers on my own." She leant forward, and jabbed a dagger into Natasha's right shoulder. 

The pain was instant, burning and rolling through her body, making Natasha inhale sharply. Yelena narrowed her eyes, shoving the dagger in further. "You should have made sure I was dead," she hissed. "Instead of assuming I had perished and stealing my title. Black Widow. You have never been the Widow."

The hell she wasn't. If she could just get her goddam arms to move she would show the Widow wanna-be just who did deserve to hold that title.

She held Yelena's glare, ignoring the pain singing through her arm. The woman did have every right to want to murder her. Natasha had done some horrible things to her, and that wasn't even including leaving her to die on a cold winter's night in Russia.

She'd trained the woman to be a Widow. Taunted her every step of the way, letting her know she would never be as good as Natasha. She'd sent Yelena to the Red Room, a place she herself had barely made it out of with a shred of her soul intact.

She could argue that she hadn't had a choice. That was long before Clint had appeared in her life, before she realized she had the chance to choose her own path. 

That she didn't have to be a mindless, obedient monster.

Natalia had terrorized and tormented Yelena Belova. The only other woman who could have held the title of Black Widow.

And apparently the other woman was still quite pissed about it.

Yelena yanked the dagger out, twisting it viciously as she did, and Natasha emitted a small noise of pain.

"I am going to enjoy this, very much," Yelena whispered.

Natasha had a feeling she wasn't going to be able to say the same.

"Tell me where Steve Rogers is," Yelena demanded.

If Natasha could have blinked, she would have. Of all the things she'd expected Yelena to say, that hadn't even made the list.

"There are still quite a few Hydra agents at large," Yelena said. "And they are all quite interested in capturing Rogers while he is alone and without backup from his Avenger friends. You will tell me where he is."

Well, that wasn't going to happen. She hadn't spoken to Steve in six months, she had no clue where she was. And even if she did, Natasha wasn't known for spilling her guts. She wasn't about to start now.

Yelena smiled slowly, as if she knew the thoughts spreading in Natasha's head. 

"Let's just see how we can loosen your tongue, hmmm?"

She lifted the dagger again. 

A sharp whistle emitted from the doorway. Before she could whirl around, Yelena was struck by a sharp blue light, knocking her off her feet and crashing her to the floor.

Tony stormed into the library, in his Iron Man armor. When Yelena attempted to get to her feet, he struck her again, sending her flying across the room into one of the heavy bookcases.

He lifted his face plate. "Get the fuck away from my friend, Homicidal Barbie."

 

 

Tony crouched down in front of Natasha, and lightly gripped her shoulders. "Nat? Hey, Romanoff? You in there? Scan her, FRIDAY, tell me the deal. Why isn't she moving? This doesn't look right, it's too familiar---Shit, Romanoff, look at your arm, we gotta get that to stop---What?!" He barked when FRIDAY said something in his ear. Natasha could hear the AI's calm voice speaking to him, but couldn't make out the words. 

"Dammit." He cursed, patching up Nat's arm. "Dammit, Obie, you son of a bitch, you sold the Sonic Taser to Hydra?! Rude." He huffed out a breath, looking Natasha in the eyes. "Sorry, Tasha, I thought I rounded all of them up. You've gotta feel like your brains are leaking out your ears, I hate that goddamn thing. Hang in there, it will wear off soon. Hey, Barbie, I didn't say you could move!"

He turned and stood, the face plate snapping back down. Yelena had gotten to her feet and was scowling at the billionaire.

"You're gonna pay for that."

"Yeah, I've heard that a time or two before, can't say I ever do."

"There is always a first time," Yelena said, and then she pulled a small club off her belt.

Natasha didn't think it was anything big, but _Tony Stark_ took an entire step back as he acknowledged it.

Something like fear slid down her back.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Tony asked, lifting both arms and engaging both repulsors. "Put it down and step away."

"The black market," Yelena shrugged and pressed a button. "And no."

Natasha watched while the little club expanded, stretching out until it was the size of a staff. Her stomach rolled. She knew that staff, had fought with one during the battle of New York, using it against its own kind.

It was a Chitauri staff.

Nearly a meter in length, it reminded Natasha of a bayonet capable of firing energy. One blast from their staff could drop Steve to his knees. Natasha knew the Iron Man armor could sustain a lot of damage, but Tony was only wearing a prototype, and it wouldn't last long against a Widow with a weapon like that.

Tony must have known it. Without another word he opened fire on Yelena, sending several blasts her way. She avoided them easily, flipping around and firing the staff at him in return.

He evaded, and the two engaged in a deadly shoot out, while Natasha used every ounce of grit she had to get herself to somehow move. 

It didn't work.

One of Yelena's blasts managed to hit Tony's shoulder and he grunted, then engaged his thrusters and shot into the air. He landed in front of Yelena and attempted to knock the staff away.

She responded by pressing her wrist to his helmet and triggering the shock waves on her bracelet.

Natasha bristled. That was _her_ move.

Tony paused for just an instant, and she knew he was ordering FRIDAY to process the shock and keep the suit functional.

Then he made a fist and punched Yelena in the face.

She went down, but she kept her staff in her hands and pressed it against Tony's legs, firing again. 

He jerked, nearly falling to his own knees. Yelena fired again, and again, the energy blasts colliding into the armor. Natasha again tried to move. Against regular weapons, the suit would be fine, but against alien tech...

Tony cursed, but stayed on his feet. With a quick snap, he managed to reach out and yank the staff away. 

"Ha. Now what, you little--"

He was interrupted as Yelena whirled away, and threw a flashing red object on the ceiling.

_No!_ Natasha tried to scream, but her voice still wouldn't work, her body still wouldn't move, and she could do nothing but watch as the bomb went off and half the ceiling fell on Tony.

 

 

His suit could handle worse.

She _knew_ that, she'd seen Tony pop out of situations no one else could survive before. Hell, one of his suits had handled being stuck in the engine of a freaking hellicarrier. It had been majorly damaged but the damn thing had still flown.

Still, her heart twisted in her chest until the debris did indeed begin to move and Tony shoved his way out of the bricks and plaster that had covered him.

He flipped the faceplate up, eyes full of rage. "Do that again, Goldie, and I'm gonna get pissed."

She lifted the spear she'd nabbed back, and sent a blast of energy at his head. 

He twisted, and the blast missed his face, but harshly hit the back of his helmet. Her next shot hit the same spot, making the helmet smoke, and Tony cursed, whirling around to face them, and yanked his helmet off.

It was the opening Yelena had been waiting for.

She quickly pulled her own mask back on, and triggered the Sonic Taser.

Tony froze.

Natasha could hear Yelena's smirking laughter as she whirled the Chitauri staff, triggering its fire power. Blast after blast erupted out of the alien tech and pummeled into the Iron Man suit, cracking and gashing and chipping away at the armor until piece by piece it began to fall off the billionaire.

Tony's eyes were wide and horrified and Natasha wished she could just fucking _move_ and somehow stop this, somehow reassure her friend that he was not living his worst nightmare. 

But any chance Natasha had of regaining mobility had vanished when Yelena had hit the Sonic Taser again. 

When half the armor had fallen, Yelena struck again. This time, Tony crashed to the ground. Nat watched, heart-sick, as Yelena walked over to him and sent a blast straight at his head.

Then she turned to Nat, aimed the staff, and pulled the trigger.

The pain was so intense she was grateful the darkness rolled in only seconds later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yelena Belova is a character in the Marvel Comic universe that interacts a lot with Natasha, and is known as the second Black Widow. I don't own the rights to her at all, but I did try and use a little bit of their backstory for reference for this fic, shifting a few things around to suit this story's needs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get dark and twisty here, so if torture-y things are a trigger for you, please skip the next two to three chapters!

Someone was stabbing an ice pick into her brain.

Or at least, that's how her headache felt. Natasha groaned, opening her eyes, wincing at the onslaught of pain. Her head hadn't hurt this bad since she spent one foolish night trying to drink Clint under the table in the early 2000s. 

She sat up, acknowledging the fact that she could move again, and sighed. She was in a very nasty and grimy prison cell, with filthy walls and zero windows. Nothing she hadn't managed to escape before, but having windows would have helped with the smell. She had been thrown into a small cot, and her shoes, hairpins and jewelry were nowhere to be found.

And on the floor beside her was Tony.

She sagged in relief a bit at that; she hadn't know the Chitauri staves could be set to stun and had been seriously concerned Yelena had killed him. Natasha crawled off the cot to check Tony's breathing, a weight lifting off her chest when she assessed that his breathing pattern was normal.

He was currently more useful to Yelena alive, then.

She briefly wondered what the Widow Wanna-Be wanted him for. Money, potentially, God knew he was good for it. His brain was another, Tony Stark had been kidnapped more than once by people wanting him to create something for them.

She hoped for Tony's sake that Yelena hadn't brought him here to torture him regarding Steve.

That would just be rubbing salt to a wound that had never fully healed after Siberia.

Though she knew, after all these years of knowing him, Tony Stark would never give up and disclose the safety of another person, even if he did currently wish Captain America had never been pulled out of the ice.

She quickly checked him over, but Yelena had essentially stripped him too; his watch, reactor, and ring were all gone. All he had left was a badly tattered tuxedo and several brilliant bruises.

She prayed that somewhere FRIDAY had managed to raise the alarm, and that Rhodey, Vision, and Pepper were out there looking for them. She'd even take Strange and his magic friends, if it meant getting out of here quickly.

She hoped with every fiber of her being that Peter Parker had not been informed, and that he stayed in The Compound and far away from Yelena Belova.

Tony moaned, and Natasha reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, hoping it helped with the headache he was certain to have. After a few moments his eyelids fluttered, and his dark chocolate eyes focused on her.

"Tasha?" He asked, and his voice was thick, and stuffy. Nat's hand stilled. "Whasss goin' on?"

Natasha swore in Russian. Shit. He'd been drugged. She didn't have to guess to figure out why; she would have done the same if she'd kidnapped the genius billionaire. Keep him drugged and confused so he couldn't call his armor, and you didn't have to worry about Iron Man coming to kill your ass.

Once again she prayed that somehow FRIDAY was out there, working to get back her boss.

She ran her hand through his hair again, and he relaxed a little, so she did the worse thing she could have done, and told him a lie.

"Hey, Stark. We seem to have been kidnapped by an old colleague of mine. But not to worry, I've got it covered."

Tony snorted, and his eyes grew focused for a moment. "Blondie. She'sss a bitch."

Despite herself, Nat laughed. "Yes, she is. She's good at what she does."

Tony closed his eyes. "You're better."

Nat glanced down at him, and kept running her hands through his hair. "I hope I still am."

But he was already asleep.

 

 

 

Yelena appeared not long after that. 

Natasha had corrected her foolish behavior by then. She was back on her cot, knees drawn to her chest, and stared at the cell door as if she were plotting the best way to get out of it.

Stark was still and alone on the floor. 

Nat didn't send a glance his way as Yelena approached. Half the world still thought the two of them hated each other, only put up with each other for appearance's sake. She'd never been so grateful for the false impression. If Yelena had any inkling that Natasha cared for him, the first thing she'd do would be destroy him completely.

So she acted like she could care less that the billionaire was on the floor and lifted an eyebrow at Yelena.

"I was beginning to wonder when you'd show. Your hospitality needs a bit of work, Yelena." 

"Be grateful you are alive," Yelena replied.

"So emotional. I taught you to be better than that."

"You taught me nothing," Yelena hissed. 

Nat cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, _rooskaya_. We both know that isn't true."

Yelena's jaw clenched. "Take her to the main floor," she ordered, and nine men moved in from behind her.

Natasha watched them enter her cell, debating the odds. She could attempt to take them out now, but doing so with Yelena in the same room would be a hell of a challenge. And if she did manage to to take all ten of them down, getting Stark out after would prove difficult due to the drugs pumped into his system. 

So she allowed them to bind her arms and escort her from the cell.

And if she gave two of them a few hard kicks, making them yelp and fall, well, it was only to be expected.

She didn't have a single clue as to where the hell they were. An abandoned old mansion was her only insight. All the windows were covered, so she couldn't look outside and try to figure it out by the scenery. The temperate was set the same in each room, so Nat couldn't even use that to try and guess her location.

Damn Yelena.

They brought her to a room that looked like it was once a ball room. Glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but they were old and broken in most spots. The floor was tarnished and blackened, and far too many sections had old blood pooling on it.

A chair sat in the middle of the room, a small table with far too many ill-boding tools on top of it next to it. The men shoved Natasha into the chair, and Yelena snapped a collar around her neck.

Natasha held her gaze, refusing to wonder what the hell the collar was for.

There was no chance it was anything good.

"Tell me where Steve Rogers is." Yelena said, nodding at a few of the men to leave, pulling up another chair, and sitting across from Nat.

Natasha watched them go. Down to only five people in the room. She could work with that. 

"People keep asking me that. I have no idea."

Yelena's eyes narrowed. "Give me your best guess."

"Have you tried Paris? Steve's very fond of crepes."

Yelena backhanded her. Natasha's head whipped to the left, and blood pooled in her mouth.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, turned her gaze back to Yelena, and spat. "Ow."

"It's going to get a lot worse than that."

Natasha knew it would. But instead of cowering like Yelena wanted, she tilted her head. "Why does Hydra want Steve anyway? Seems to me like each time they run into him, he kicks their ass and makes them look like fools."

"I do not care. And I am not here to reveal my sinister plan, Natalia. We both know you aren't going to tell me anything."

"Then I guess there's no real point in keeping me around."

Yelena leaned forward. "Of course there is. I may not know where Rogers is, but everyone's heard of your capture by now. Why do you think I took you in such a public place? Rogers is a bleeding heart, he'll come straight to us. Especially once I release the video."

"Video?"

"The one of me enacting my revenge on you." Yelena shoved to her feet, grabbing Natasha by the hair. She yanked Nat's head back, and then used her other hand to punch Natasha directly in the throat.

Nat gagged, her airway screaming and on fire, but kept the look of defiance on her face.

"I'm not really into home videos, _rooskaya_ , maybe another time," she managed after a while.

Yelena grabbed a crowbar from her little torture table, and cracked it into Natasha's knee.

Her body flinched, and her knee screamed in agony. Her poor knee had already taken a beating during the fight with Yelena earlier. Now it roared with excruciating pain. But Natasha forced herself to grunt, holding back her yelp, and then laughed in Yelena's face. "That's not going to stop me from escaping."

Yelena brought the crowbar down again. And again. And fuck, FUCK it hurt and it was going to make escaping more difficult because standing on it would be damn near impossible.

Natasha breathed through the pain, twisting her hands behind her back, testing the strength of the knot on the ropes binding her. 

Yelena grabbed her face, dropping the crowbar and picking pliers up from her table.

Natasha wheezed and hated every agency that taught that pulling teeth was one of the most basic elements of torture.

She used them while she still had them, twisting her head and biting down on the hand Yelena used to get her to open her mouth. 

Belova yelped, pulling her hand away and cracking Natasha in the temple with the pliers. 

"You bitch," Yelena hissed, and bent down to force open her mouth again.

Natasha head-butted her. She slammed her head into Yelena's face, then surged to her feet. The world flashed white as she put her weight on her knee, but that was fine. She would slam back on this chair and get her arms free, kick everyone's ass, and then if universe was kind Stark would be awake and could help her limp out of here. 

She was about to fling herself back and break the chair when Yelena pressed a button.

Her body seized. The shocks emitting from the collar stole her breath, and her neck burned and the world was on fire, and Jesus what the hell was that collar, it _hurt_ , worse than getting tasered, worse than getting her teeth yanked out, she couldn't stop seizing and flinching and fuck it all, the pain was agonizing.

Then the shocks stopped and Natasha lay sprawled on the floor, gasping, nearly weeping, and hating the small whimper that snuck out of her throat.

Yelena yanked her to her feet. "I told you I would enjoy this."

And she triggered the collar again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> According to Wikipedia, Natasha used to call Yelena "rooskaya" ("Russian") to encourage her to remember the traits that make her unique, rather than blindly devote herself to the KGB and Red Room. (But of course, that clearly didn't happen) I've kept that in this fic, as I feel like it would be something Nat would do


	5. Chapter 5

She wasn't sure how long it lasted.

Hours, for certain. Possibly most of the night. Each time she blacked out Yelena would yank her back again with smelling salts. 

By the time the Widow Wanna-Be finally left the ballroom, Natasha was missing two teeth, had four missing fingernails, burn marks all over her body, and a slippery hold on her sanity.

She'd gotten soft working with the Avengers.

If she got the hell out of here, she would correct that. But at the moment she just sagged in her chair, grateful for the bit of relief, and then resumed her study of the room. There had to be something she could use.

Her mouth was raw, and her poor, nail-less hands ached. They throbbed in rhythm with her heartbeat, and her shoulder wound oozed. She was covered in blood, and as a result was woozy and having trouble keeping focus.

If she didn't think of something fast, she would be well and truly fucked.

She hated the way her gut recoiled as footsteps sounded behind her, but schooled her face back into a bored expression as Yelena and her men came back into the room. There were only two men with her this time, which lifted her spirits a little.

They dragged Tony in with them.

They dropped him into the chair across from Natasha, handcuffing his hands behind his back. His head hung forward and rested on his chest, and Natasha fought back a frustrated snarl. He was still drugged. That would make things exponentially harder.

Yelena walked behind him, and held out her hand. One of the men handed her a syringe, and she stabbed it into Tony's neck.

He came to with a panicked gasp, eyes wide, panting as he took in the room. 

"Jesus!" He managed, after several jagged, gulping, breaths. "What the hell?"

"Welcome to the party, Mr. Stark," Yelena said calmly.

Tony glanced around the room. "Lady, this is the most fucked up party I've ever been to." His eyes landed on Natasha and widened slightly. For just a brief instant she saw the horror, and the pity, and then it was gone, and he sent a cheeky grin at her. "Romanoff, you ruined your dress. Pep's gonna be pissed."

"I'll try to make it up to her," Natasha managed to say. Her throat was raw, like she'd swallowed glass. 

Tony smiled at her, though it didn't reach his eyes, then narrowed his stare and glared at Yelena. "What the fuck is going on, you maniac?"

She backhanded him. He grunted, but didn't lose the scowl.

"I'm looking for Steve Rogers," Yelena began, but Tony's snort interrupted her.

"You have got the wrong two people for that, Twisted Sister. I haven't talked to Rogers in three years, I've no clue where he is. If I did, I'd tell you so that you could do me a favor and knock him around a little."

Yelena stared at him for a moment, considering. "You know, I actually think you mean that."

"Damn skippy."

"Good thing we had another reason for bringing you here."

Natasha started working at the ropes tying her arms back. This was going to get bad, quickly. Yelena wouldn't put up with Tony's smart mouth much longer.

But Yelena, damn her, had bound Natasha with at least two different ropes, and her fingers were already raw and bleeding thanks to the removal of her fingernails. It was going to take her a while.

Tony sighed exorbitantly. "Let me guess, you want money. Or for me to make something. Is anyone original any more? All you baddies want the same thing."

"I want neither."

"Oh, well, at least you're not gonna be boring."

"I want the Spider-Man."

Natasha's blood froze.

Tony was only caught off guard for a moment, and to his credit, his horror barely showed.

But Natasha saw it. That one, terrified, flinch. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know anyone by that name, call again later."

Yelena backhanded him again.

"Barbie, you better stop smacking me, or I'm gonna snap."

"You have been seen with the Spider-Man numerous times. Do not lie to me. You will tell me about the Spider, about how he became a super solider like Steve Rogers, and what his weaknesses are. And then you will tell me where to find him."

"Or?" Tony mocked, jutting his chin up.

"Or I will make you wish you were dead," Yelena said simply. "I'll give you a few minutes to think about it. But take a close look at Natalia. That's what I can do when I'm not even interested in obtaining information. It is only the start of what I will do to you, if you do not give me what I want."

She patted him on the head, then gestured to the guards to follow her.

Then they left, leaving Tony and Natasha to stare helplessly at one another.

 

 

 

 

"Nat. Are you all right?"

"Just peachy. Why? Did my make-up smear?"

"Just a little," he cringed. She tried not to take offense. Truthfully, considering all she'd been through (goddamn stupid collar), she bet she was actually looking pretty good. 

"What are our odds, here?" Tony asked quietly.

She tested her work on the ropes, which made her shoulder scream. "Not that great. I'm working on it."

"Any chance that work will be completed in the next three minutes?"

She hung her head. If she hadn't gotten soft, there might have been a chance. But right now, with her shoulder and mouth screaming, the collar on her neck, and her hands so bloody she kept slipping trying to untie the knots...."Probably not, Stark. I'm sorry."

He inhaled sharply. She closed her eyes, shame washing through her. She was the one who was supposed to be the expert at this. The one who controlled the situation, no matter what it was, no matter if she was being tortured or not. She always had a plan, and a way out.

She didn't know how to explain that this time, she was basically trying to outwit herself. And she was a mean bitch.

Natasha had no idea how to get out of this quickly. And that meant she was about to massively fail Tony.

"Tasha."

She dragged her gaze up, locked eyes with him. His eyes were fierce and bright, and Natasha wanted to sigh at the determination she saw there. She knew what he was about to say.

"I'm not letting Hydra get the kid."

She had already seen the lengths Tony would go to, to protect Peter Parker. She wondered if the kid had any idea. If he even knew how much Tony Stark cared.

She hoped he did.

"There is still some kind of drug in my system, I can't call the armor." He paused. "Romanoff, I need you to...look, there's no one else I think could go through this with me and do this. You're the only one. Don't stop them, Nat. Don't give them anything. Whatever they do to me, do not stop them. They can't learn about the kid."

"You're asking me to sit here quietly while they torture you." And she hated herself, hated being the Black Widow. Hated knowing that he was right, and that she could do it, she could sit there and let him suffer until she got free to keep the kid safe, but she hoped with everything she had that he knew she didn't goddamn _want_ to. 

"Yes. I won't let them learn about the kid. If there's anything in this life I will succeed in, it's keeping that goddamn kid safe." He took a shaky breath. "And if I can't....Natasha, if I'm not strong enough..."

She could at least give him peace of mind. "I'll somehow intervene before you say anything that could put in him danger."

His shoulders sagged. "Thanks, Nat."

It was like a knife in the chest. "Don't thank me for this, Tony. I should have gotten us out of this already."

He quirked an eyebrow. "As I was the one who was fucking napping while you were getting your teeth yanked out, Romanoff, I'm gonna give you a pass."

"This is going to be bad," Natasha told him.

"Yeah," he said quietly as the door to the ballroom opened. The fact that he didn't have a smart ass response worried her. He closed his eyes briefly, and Natasha fought against her restraints, wanting to spare him this. Knowing, hating, that she wouldn't be able to. 

Yelena knew her too well. Knew how to keep her targets immobilized. 

Even the Black Widow.

"Did you consider my offer, Stark?" Yelena asked, walking over.

His eyes opened. "I've mulled it over, Red Room Reject, and I'm gonna have to turn you down."

Yelena's grin was slow, and lethal. "Too bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read along so far! The next chapter is a doozy, so just a heads up (there is torture and some non-consensual touching...please, please skip if either is a problem for you!!!!)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! As I mentioned last chapter, this one is a doozy. There's torture (poor, poor Tony) and some non-consensual touching near the end of the chapter. If that is a trigger for you, please, please skip this chapter!

They started with a beating.

Tony rolled with it easily enough, at first. Lord knew he'd suffered through enough attacks over the years that he knew how to take a hit. He'd even begun training with her again in the last few months, after her arm had healed from the damage she'd sustained in the fight with Ross. He was a scrappy fighter, never giving up when he should, and was quite adapt at twisting his body to keep his vulnerabilities protected without the attacker realizing it.

He did so now, curling in just a bit to the left, so they would aim more at his right. They had uncuffed him, giving him the pretense of having a chance, but Yelena alone was too deadly for him to keep up with. When the two other men started in also, he didn't last long. 

Shoving him back in the chair, one man held each arm spread out, and Yelena picked up a sharp wooden splinter.

"Where did the Spider-Man get his powers?"

"He sacrificed a Daddy Long Legs and sent a plea to the arachnid gods."

Yelena stabbed the splinter under a fingernail on his right hand, and Tony screamed, twisting his face away from Yelena and trying to get his arm free from her men.

"Hydra is very interested in learning how he acquired his powers. Giving me a better answer would be wise."

"Fuck. Off." Tony gasped, and cried out again when she stabbed another splinter under a different nail.

Natasha fought back the urge to look away, and kept her face steady, in case Tony looked her way.

When he finally did, she held his gaze, just to let him know she was there, that he could do this. He grimaced, flicking his eyes back to Yelena. 

"What is his name?" Yelena asked. The man holding Tony's left hand grabbed a finger and pulled it back. 

Tony grunted, panting.

"What is his name?" She asked again.

"Spidey Spiderson."

The man jerked his hand, the finger snapped. Tony screamed.

"Perhaps you can tell me of his weaknesses," Yelena said, calmly.

"He's not a big fan of pickles," Tony gasped. "Hates them."

The man snapped another finger. Yelena shook her head over Tony's bellow. "Your sarcasm is tiresome, Stark."

Tony was panting, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, but managed to get out: "Sorry. Oh, wait. No I'm not."

Natasha pressed her lips together. She'd always appreciated Stark's wise-ass remarks, but if he didn't knock it off, Yelena was going to rip out his tongue.

"Do you have anything to tell me about the Spider, Natalia?" Yelena asked, giving Tony a momentary break. 

"I heard a story about him going up a water spout once," she said, in an effort to piss Yelena off and keep her away from Tony.

Yelena just rolled her eyes, and grabbed her little remote from her belt. Natasha's eyes zeroed in on it, a moment before Yelena triggered her collar.

Natasha flinched, jerking and seizing in her chair, and this time it went on longer than Yelena had ever allowed it, and Natasha bit her tongue and felt blood trickle out of her nose, and out her ear, and _it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't stop, it wouldn't...._

And then finally it did, and Natasha could breathe again. She looked up to see Tony staring at her, face completely white, and Yelena smirking off to the side.

"Now, unless you want a fancy collar like Natalia's, I would suggest you stop with the sarcasm," she told Stark. "And start telling me what I want to hear."

Tony only took a shaky breath, and refused to meet Yelena's eyes.

"If you insist on continuing to be stubborn, I'll have to resort to more drastic measures." 

At that, Tony lifted his head and bared his teeth. "Bring it on, Barbie."

She tilted her head. "Tell me, Stark. Do you still fear water?"

Natasha struggled against her restraints. _Shit._ Shit, shit, shit....

Tony had blanched. He made no smart-ass reply when Yelena repeated her question, only shook his head, fear crawling into his eyes.

"No."

"No?" Yelena asked. She jerked her head at one of her men, and jabbed a finger at the door. "Then perhaps you will not mind a refreshing dunk in the water."

The man returned with two enormous buckets of water, setting them down in front of Tony.

He'd gone completely still, staring at them in horror.

Breathe, Natasha screamed in her mind, wishing she had Wanda's mind abilities. _Breathe, Stark, breathe, breathe, breathe..._

He took one panicked gulp, and then fought desperately when one of the men grabbed him by his hair.

"What is the Spider-Man's name?"

"No, no, no, no," Tony pleaded, but the man was shoving him forward, and Tony sobbed, fighting with everything he had, even though he still had those splinters under his nails, even though the other man had stepped in and was helping force him towards the bucket.

They shoved him to his knees, and Tony was pleading, gasping, trying so hard to get them to stop, to get away, that Natasha lost it, and screamed at Yelena to let him go.

Yelena strode forward, and pushed Tony's head into the water, holding him there while he flailed and struggled, proceeding to try and drown him.

Then she grabbed her little remote, and triggered the shock collar again, and Natasha knew nothing else.

 

 

She woke at once.

Vomit covered the floor around her, and Natasha wrinkled her nose in disgust, but couldn't say she was surprised. Yelena had cranked her shock collar to 11, Natasha's body was still involuntarily twitching because of it. At least she missed her dress.

She lifted her head, just a bit, to assess what was going on around her, and was relieved to see the that Yelena's men and the two buckets of water were gone, and that Tony was sitting in the chair across from her, arms once again bound behind his back.

But he was not alone.

Yelena stood behind him, watching while he trembled and shook, tremors overtaking him despite his attempts to breathe through it and stop them. His hair and the top half of his tuxedo were soaked, and Natasha's heart broke, wondering how long they had tortured him with the water before deciding he had had enough.

"You have chosen a rough life, Tony Stark," Yelena was saying, walking around Tony in a circle. "A life of pain, and misery. Always alone, always so broken."

Tony clenched his jaw, and snapped something Natasha couldn't hear. Yelena laughed softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He flinched away, but she kept her hand on his face.

"Ah, but you _are_ always alone, are you not? I have seen this in the news, read it in my reports. No one cares about you, Tony. They all leave. Always, they leave. Friends, lovers, teammates. No one ever stays. And yet you keep fighting. The weight of the world on your shoulders." Her tone had changed, putting Natasha on high alert. There were no more taunts or hate coating her words. Instead she sounded as if she were trying to soothe the billionaire.

As if to prove Nat right, Yelena ran a hand through Tony's hair. Softly. As if she knew him intimately.

Warning bells went off in Natasha's brain.

"Don't you get tired, Tony? Always fighting, always hurting. Always alone. And nothing ever seems to change."

He closed his eyes, and Yelena ran both hands through his hair now, murmuring to him softly.

"Don't you want the pain to just go away?"

He didn't respond. Yelena straddled him, shifting her hands so that they now ran softly over his face, butterfly touches that Natasha knew were meant to fool him into thinking she would no longer torture him, that she could offer him a little slice of heaven, and rid him of his pain.

She wanted to speak up, to tell Yelena to get the hell away from him, but she knew that this was something Tony was going to have to do on his own. To once again make the choice to do the right thing, even if it meant great personal cost to himself.

He inhaled sharply, and Natasha dropped her gaze. Yelena whispered soothing words, and Tony shuddered when she brushed her hands over his chest, making contact where his tuxedo shirt had opened. With lazy strokes she ran her hands back up to softly entwine around his neck. She pressed herself against him, caressing his battered face. His breath hitched.

"I can make the pain stop," she whispered. "Just give me a name."

He opened his eyes. "Fuck you, Barbie."

And then in a move that made Natasha's heart absolutely sing, he slammed his head into Yelena's.


	7. Chapter 7

Natasha surged to her feet the moment Yelena's head snapped back. She'd worked the damn ropes off her arms just in time, and though her wrists were raw and dripping with blood, at least she was free.

Her knee collapsed as she put weight on it, but she just went with it and threw herself at Yelena. The two fell to the floor, blood flying everywhere thanks to Natasha's many wounds, and Nat didn't hesitate. She grabbed the little remote to her collar off Yelena's belt and threw it as far away as she could. 

Yelena slugged her in the mouth.

Natasha's head jerked back, and collided with the floor. Yelena smirked.

"Do you really think you're going anywhere, Natalia?"

"No," Nat managed, and grabbed the Chitauri stave. 

She hit the button to expand it. Yelena made a grab for it, and nearly wrestled it away, thanks to the blood on Natasha's hands making her grip slippery.

They rolled, fighting for the stave, and Natasha felt her energy draining. Baring her teeth, she brought her elbow down on Yelena's nose, and yanked the staff free.

She flicked it around, and slammed the bayonet end into Yelena's throat.

The blonde jerked, arms going up to try and dislodge the staff. Natasha screamed and threw all her weight on it, twisting so that it shredded Yelena's throat.

Yelena's arms dropped.

Natasha yanked out the staff and buried it into the woman's chest. Then she did it again. And again. She wasn't leaving there without making damn certain Yelena was never moving again, would continue stabbing her until there wasn't a doubt in her mind the woman wouldn't be coming back....

"Natasha."

She froze, the staff poised in her arms to strike Yelena again.

There was blood everywhere.

"Nat." Tony's voice was calm, and even, as if he didn't dare make a sound that would unnerve her. "She's dead."

Nat glanced down, and yes, yes she was, but she had been dead before and looked what happened. 

"I could use some help getting free," Tony said casually, as if he was discussing the weather. "Can you help me?"

Natasha forced herself to back away from Yelena, but she didn't let go of the staff. She used it to drag herself over to Tony, blood smearing on the floor behind her, and worked on getting him free.

Thank God Yelena had only used handcuffs on him, and not ropes. Natasha didn't think her hands could handle untying another knot.

As it was, her hands shook and slipped numerous times, but soon she was able to pick the lock and free his hands.

"Jesus Christ, Nat." He caught her as the world started to spin and she drooped to the floor. "Are you all right?"

"Fine." She managed. 

He yanked off his jacket. "You've lost so much blood, Tasha," he murmured, pressing the jacket to her shoulder. "Gimme a second, I'll try to get you patched up."

"'Kay."

Ripping the jacket, Tony was able to wrap her shoulder and her wrists, though it took him quite a while due to his own broken and battered fingers.

She hadn't realized her eyes had closed until Tony gently patted her on her good shoulder. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you doing okay?"

"Collar," she mumbled. 

"What?"

"Get it off," she pleaded, opening her eyes. "Tony. Please."

"Hang on." He gently lifted her neck, inspecting the collar. Reaching out, he tested it in a few places, trying to get it free.

"Shit. I don't think I can remove it with my fingers all fucked up." His head dropped. "I'm sorry."

She refused to give in to the panic clawing up her back. "Remote," she said, jerking her head to where she'd flung it.

He took the hint and rushed over, snatching it up and hurrying back.

She stared at him as he held it out. "No pockets," she said. Stupid dress. "You keep it?"

He stilled. "You trust me to keep this safe?"

"Always." She managed. She was so tired.

His hand closed around it, and then he shoved it in his pocket. "No one will touch it," he vowed. 

"Yay." Stupid, fucking collar. When she finally got rid of it she would throw it in the garbage disposal and do a dance while she watched it churn.

Tony crouched back down in front of her. "Can you walk?" 

She heard the worry in his voice but couldn't do much about it. Nodding slowly, she pushed herself up, hissing when the world turned dark.

"Hold on, Nat, let me help." He slipped his left arm around her, and she leaned into him, wrapping her right arm around him and holding on for dear life.

For a moment they just clung to each other.

She hadn't realized how cold she was until his warmth encircled her. She snuggled in, a small noise like a whimper escaping her throat.

His grip tightened. "We're gonna get out of this."

Damn right they were. Feeling slightly less shitty, and grateful that the world had stopped spinning, Nat tried taking a small step forward.

She didn't stop the cry of pain that made its way past her defenses, but she didn't fall, either. So she counted it as a win.

"Hey, you're walking, good that's good," Tony said. He moved her arm so that it wrapped around his neck, allowing her to lean more on him. 

She swayed a bit, but Tony steadied her as she caught her breath. She leaned on him a little more, his familiar scent of ridiculously expensive cologne and motor oil grounding her. 

"There are at least nine men here we've gotta get past," she told him as they practiced taking a few more steps. Her blood loss seemed to have finally slowed; her vision was clearer and she was able to speak in coherent sentences. 

Thank God.

"All right. What do we do first?"

"Get me a gun. I'm not feeling up to any hand to hand combat at the moment."

"Can't imagine why," Tony said wryly as he led her to Yelena's little torture table, where one of her men had stupidly placed a gun. "Okay, Lazybones, here you go."

"You should probably go get the staff. We're gonna need more than one weapon."

"You don't want it?"

She didn't think looking at it or the body on the floor was a good idea at the moment. "No."

"Okay." He helped her get a steady grip on the table so she wouldn't fall, then moved to Yelena and grabbed the staff. Natasha's body protested as his warmth went away, but he was back before she knew it and once again wrapping an arm around her.

"All right, let's do this," he said, lifting the staff. "Shoot to thrill?"

She huffed out a weak laugh. "I don't have the energy to deal with any more thrills or excitement. Just kill them."

"I can do that."


	8. Chapter 8

The first guard was dead as soon as they opened the ballroom door.

Nat would have taken pride in it, but the truth was, her aim had been lousy. If the guard hadn't been half-asleep, it probably would have taken a lot longer. 

And as it was, her gunshot was entirely too loud in the quiet mansion.

"Okay, that probably drew the attention of everyone here," she admitted, slumping a little. Tony propped her on the wall, then grabbed the dead guy's gun. 

"On the bright side, we're down to eight Bad Guys left."

"That we know about," she corrected, trying to stand. "They were using us to lure Steve. I doubt there are only eight guards."

His face darkened at the mention of Rogers, but then he realized she was trying to step around. Scolding her for trying to walk without him, he wrapped her arm back around his neck, wincing slightly.

"Sorry," she told him, shame filling her. If she'd been the person she was supposed to have been, she wouldn't need to be leaning so heavily on him. And he wouldn't still be soaking wet and trembling.

As if he knew her thoughts were drenched in guilt, Tony drew her in, tilting his head so that it briefly rested on hers. "Just a few bruised ribs. You have nothing to be sorry for." He helped her take a few steps, trying to keep them in the shadows. "Hear anything?"

"Not yet," she said quietly.

"Maybe they're all sleeping," Tony said hopefully. 

"You really think we're that lucky?"

He sighed. "No. Damn."

And then both his arms were around her, picking her up and whirling her around, pressing her back so she was against the wall, and hidden by his body.

"What the---Stark!" She hissed. 

He barely breathed. "Shh."

It only took a few more seconds for her to hear the footsteps slinking down the stairs to her left.

"Wait here," Tony said in her ear, and then drew away.

She snarled at him, murder in her eyes, but he slinked toward the stairs and she couldn't move with her busted knee.

She hefted her gun up, trying to cover him, but couldn't see Tony or the Hydra agents. 

She was going to KILL him.

There was a bang, and several shouts. When the gun went off again Natasha pressed her lips together and held her breath, praying. Several terrifying moments went by, and no noise or movement came from the stairs.

Oh, God.

Her heart thundered in her ears, and she strained to listen, to know if her friend had just been killed after all the horror they had been through. But there wasn't even the whisper of noise, and Natasha gripped her gun with unsteady hands, ready to rain fire down on the whole damn world if something happened to Stark.

And then Tony came back into sight and her relief was so huge she nearly dropped. She shoved back against the wall, glaring at him. "You stubborn, stupid, selfish, asshole!"

"Language, Nat," he said, but she didn't care for the old joke.

"I'm going to kill you!" She hissed, swatting at his hand when he tried to support her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would be hard on you to leave you here, I just acted on instinct."

"Your instincts suck," she snapped. But when he reached out to support her again, she let him draw her in.

They walked through the halls in silence.

"Natasha---"

"I forgive you. _Dolor in asinum_."

"What was that? Did you just curse at me in Latin?"

She shrugged as they turned a corner. Then they stopped, and she blinked.

"Holy shit." Tony said.

They stood at the top of another staircase, that descended down to a long corridor. A door was at the far end of the corridor, and Nat's heart leapt at the sight of it, until she registered the disturbing scene leading up to it. 

Dozens of bodies lined the floor of the corridor. 

Judging from their uniforms, they were all Hydra agents. And not all of them were dead. Some were moaning and struggling against the cuffs binding them.

Tony turned to her, bewildered. "What the hell---?"

"Looks like we might have an ally."

Gunshots erupted behind them. Tony flinched, helping Natasha back into the shadows.

"Whoever it is, they're gonna have to survive on their own," Tony stated. "We're in no shape to help at the moment."

She hated to admit that, but he had a point. "Lets make our way down the stairs and hope there's a car we can borrow outside," Nat suggested.

"Square deal," Tony agreed.

They made the first few tentative steps forward, and suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck raised. She gripped Tony's arm.

"Turn us around," she snapped.

Tony whirled. Natasha's gun was up and firing before he competed the turn. Two barks of her gun took the first man down. His shot went wide, missing Nat. 

She didn't stop. She quickly adjusted, took out the second man before he managed to fire off more than one hit. 

The man hit the ground with a thunk. Nat sighed.

"God, that was close. Let's get out of here, Stark, we can try to get to that door and to a vehicle before anyone else pops up."

"...Tasha."

"Tony?"

And then he dropped to his knees, and Natasha went with him, screaming, as Tony Stark gripped her hand and blood pooled from the wounds where bullets had gone straight into his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* I'm so sorry


	9. Chapter 9

No, no, no, no, no.

She tried to catch him and hold him up as he slumped forward, but failed. Gently, she laid him down, then pressed a hand to his chest to try and stop the bleeding.

"Stay with me Tony," she said, fighting back panic.

His eyes were glassy. "Sorry, Tasha."

"Don't you dare apologize. I won't accept it, you aren't dying on me, Stark."

His chest was a mess, the blood was pouring out too quickly for her to tell how bad the wounds were. Once again she tried to stop the bleeding, but her hands kept slipping.

Tony took a shuddering breath.

Natasha refused to let that be a bad sign, and relied on her instincts and training, swearing to herself that she was not going to fail at this, she was not going to let him die, as words uttered from what felt like a million years ago entered her mind.

 

_"Agent Romanoff. Did you miss me?"_

 

She had, dammit. The man knew how to press her buttons, how to piss her off better than almost anybody, but he could also make her laugh; his sarcastic quips identical to her own warped sense of humor.

Her shoulder wound reopened, but she didn't care, she kept trying to stabilize him, kept furiously telling him to hold on.

"It's okay, Tasha." He smiled weakly.

It wasn't okay, it would never be okay.

 

_"I can close it. Can anybody hear me? I can close it!"_

_"No, wait! I've got a nuke coming in, and I know right where to put it."_

_"....That's a one way trip, Stark."_

 

He had come back that time, he had survived that one way trip, and there was no way in hell Natasha was going to let him bleed out on the floor of a damn Hydra base.

But the blood wouldn't slow, and he was turning deathly pale.

 

_"I'm sorry, did I just mishear, or did you agree with me?"_

_"Oh, I wanna take it back."_

_"No, no, no, you can't retract it!"_

 

She had screwed that up, she had flipped on him to help Steve. She'd left him alone to deal with Siberia, to deal with Ross. To work through the grief of finding out his parents had been murdered. 

He had forgiven her. Even though they both knew she didn't deserve it.

His eyes were closing, and Natasha begged, pleading with him to stay with her, to stop trying to be so dramatic, it was just a flesh wound. That got a small chuckle out of him, but then his hand slipped away from her, and she screamed his name.

 

_"My left arm is numb. Is that normal?"_

_"You alright?"_

_"Always."_

 

She'd known it for the lie it was. The man was always in pain, had been ever since he came back from Afghanistan. When she'd been Natalie Rushman she'd realized it was because his arc reactor, the thing that was supposed to be keeping him alive, was painfully poisoning him. And then that was solved, but the horrors of flying into space and fighting an alien army had replaced it, creating a crushing emotional pain Natasha was sure Tony still dealt with. Then Ultron. Then the Civil War. Then Yelena.

"Come on, Tony, please. I really need you to stay with me."

He didn't answer. Instead his eyes closed. She held back a sob and desperately looked around the room for something, anything, she could use to get help.

 

_"That ledger you're always going on about? It's pretty fucking clear, Nat."_

 

No, it wasn't. It would never be, not if she failed at this, not if he died. She screamed again, begging him to open his eyes. He needed to open his eyes because she refused to accept anything else. But his eyes were staying shut, and his color was fading.

And so much blood pooled around them. His shirt was soaked with it, Natasha's hands were soaked with it....she was never going to be able to get the red out.

She kept trying. What would she tell Pepper, tell Rhodey? How could she explain this to them? How could she admit that she'd almost gotten him home, got him right up to the goddamn door only to lose him at the last second thanks to a second rate bad guy with a lucky shot.

Who was going to tell Peter?

 

_"....Tasha."_

_"Tony?"_

 

There was movement behind her, and she whirled, covering Tony, vowing death to anyone who dared harm him while he was so vulnerable.

But it was not an agent of Hydra that approached.

And for a moment Natasha thought that she HAD died, and this was hell, because the man approaching her had been taken from them years ago, had died on the floor of the helicarrier after a vindictive god sliced him through the heart.

"Agent Romanoff. It's good to see you."

"Phil?"

Familiar arms lifted her, gently pulling her out of the way. Natasha protested, trying to get back to Tony, but the arms pulled her in, and that familiar voice softly said, "Let my team look at him, Nat. Help is coming."

And she could hear sirens in the distance, so she begged Tony to hold on a little longer and pleaded to whatever god was listening that they made it to the mansion in time.

 

 

She refused to let anyone near her.

When the paramedics had arrived they'd gone straight to Tony, shouting frantically and pulling out every trick they had to keep him alive. Natasha watched, numb, while Phil Coulson gave them the details he knew and hurried along with them.

Phil being alive was a shock her poor brain would have to process later.

When another group came in and proceeded her direction Natasha informed them that if the didn't turn around and go see what they could do to help Stark, she would slit them naval to nose and leave them drowning in a pool of their own blood.

They hadn't argued.

She could hear the sounds of the remaining Hydra agents being rounded up behind her. Agents of Shield had responded to the call for help, and Natasha saw a few more familiar faces dash by on their way to help her ally. They took one look at her face and continued up the stairs.

She wished them well and hoped each Hydra agent had a slow and painful death.

She leaned against the wall and watched them finally load Tony into the ambulance. When she could no longer hear the screaming of the sirens, and the flashing of the lights were swallowed in darkness, Natasha closed her eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

She woke in The Compound.

Finding herself in the medbay, with her knee in a heavy cast wasn't surprising. Thick bandages covered the fingers that had lost their nails, and smaller bandages were sprinkled throughout the rest of her body, covering her burns. Her shoulder was wrapped, holding her arm in close in a sling.

There were gaps in her mouth where she was still missing teeth.

She inhaled slowly, testing her muscles. Everything hurt, and her head was groggy. 

How had she gotten to The Compound?

"Agent Romanoff?"

At Peter's voice, she turned her head, surprised to see the teenager at her bedside.

"Agent Romanoff, do you know where you are?"

She nodded, slowly.

He sighed in relief. "Do you remember what happened, ma'am?"

Christ, he was back to calling her ma'am. They would need to work on that. 

Then she surged up, ignoring the protests her aching body made, reaching for the side of the bed, trying to heave herself up.

Because she did remember, she remembered everything up until being loaded in an ambulance. And oh, God, if she was in The Compound that meant...that meant....

"He's alive!" Peter's arms were on her, gently trying to avoid her injuries. "Agent Romanoff, please sit back, you're going to hurt yourself again. Mr. Stark is alive, I promise."

"Where." She demanded. Her voice was raw, and rough, but she didn't care. 

"He's a few rooms down. FRIDAY can show you. Please sit back down," Peter pleaded.

She did, only because he looked so panicked. "What happened? How did I get here?"

"You and Mr. Stark were transferred here by Dr. Cho once you were both stable."

"Why don't I remember?"

His face reddened. "You, ah. You were very worried about Mr. Stark. The nurses..."

She lifted an eyebrow. "The nurses?"

"They, ah, um. They were terrified of you," he squeaked.

"What?"

"FRIDAY? A little help?"

"Agent Romanoff, you were very insistent that Boss must survive, and threatened numerous medical personnel with painful retribution if they did not succeed in keeping him that way. They sedated you, heavily, until you were brought to The Compound and Peter volunteered to sit with you."

"I uh, thought it might be good for you to wake up to a friendly face." He said, blushing further. "But the first few times you woke you were still confused by the drugs, and kept trying to get out of bed. You tore your stitches out."

She would have been embarrassed but it sounded like her, so she only nodded. "Thanks, Pete. Sorry about spazzing out."

He shrugged. "It's okay. You were just worried about Mr. Stark. After everything that happened, I don't blame you."

"And Tony is okay?"

"He's---" Peter stopped. He took a deep breath, watching her warily. "He's in a coma."

Natasha went cold. "Why?"

"Dr. Cho said it's a good thing," Peter said quickly. "That his body is using this time to heal. After everything he went through, he deserves to get some sleep, right?"

Nat didn't know how she felt about that. Maybe Peter was right, and it was a good thing. But she would have felt a hell of a lot better to hear he was awake and being a pain in the nurse's ass.

She shifted again. "I'm going to see him."

"Agent Romanoff, you can't get up, you had like, two surgeries on your knee, you shouldn't walk on it."

"Get me a wheelchair, kid. Please," she added when he sighed.

"You're supposed to be resting."

"I'll rest later."

 

 

Pepper was the one who brought the wheelchair. 

Her eyes were red, but she sent Natasha a sunny (though exhausted) smile as she walked in. Leaving the chair by the door, she swooped down and gave Natasha a hug.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," she said. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was the mole in a game of whack a mole."

Pepper smiled, and sat on the edge of Natasha's bed. "Peter said you want to sit with Tony. I would be grateful if you did, as I've been instructed to get food and some sleep, and wouldn't mind someone sitting with him while I'm gone. But are you sure you're up to getting around?"

"I'll stay until you get back," she told Pepper.

 

 

He looked awful.

Natasha knew it looked worse than it was, but that didn't keep her heart from twisting as she took in Tony hooked up to dozens of cords and machines. His face was still covered in brilliant bruises, and his broken fingers were in splints.

She let the nurse wheel her as close as possible, and kept her face blank.

When the nurse left, Natasha leaned over and gently grabbed his hand.

When the tears started, she let them fall. 

She fell asleep to the reassuring noise of the machines in the room, letting her know that he was still alive.

 

 

 

Three days later, Tony came out of the coma. Natasha, Rhodey, and the kid were playing poker at the table in his room, and Parker was about to fold and let Nat win the hand, when a weak voice said, "Don't fold, kid, Natasha's bluffing."

"Mr. Stark!"

Peter whirled so quickly Natasha was surprised he didn't fall over. He was at Tony's side in an instant.

"Mr. Stark, are you feeling okay? Do you need anything, are you thirsty?"

"Jesus, kid, calm down," Tony croaked, but he smiled. "I've been better, but I'm fine."

Rhodey stood slowly, then walked over to wrap Tony in a hug.

"Hey Rhodey-bear."

"Do not EVER do something like this again." He said, his voice thick with emotion.

"Sorry, Rhodey, but me promising to never get kidnapped is like Parker promising to stop stammering in front of females."

"Hey!"

Rhodey lightly punched his arm. "Not funny. I'm gonna go get Pepper, let her know you're awake. It's good to see you with your eyes open, Tones."

"Yeah, thanks."

"I'm gonna go tell Happy!" Peter said. "Be right back, Mr. Stark!"

And he zipped out of the room behind Rhodey.

Tony sighed after they left, and rubbed his hand over his face. The grin he had given Peter was gone, and he looked far more exhausted. 

She watched him, heart aching. Not even awake two minutes and he was putting on an act, masking his pain so he didn't worry his friends further.

"You okay?" Natasha asked softly.

"Feel like shit," he admitted. "How long have I been out?"

"About a week."

His eyebrows lifted. "That's longer than I thought. How are you? Are you all right?"

Then he frowned. "Guess that's probably a stupid question."

"I've been better," she said. "But I'll manage. It's good to see you awake, Tony."

He tried for a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Nat...."

"Tony?" Pepper stood in the doorway, eyes watering.

Tony shifted, adjusting his gaze, and suddenly, the mask was back and he didn't look as tired again. "Hey, Pep."

Natasha waved Peter over as Pepper ran to Tony, and had him push her chair out of the room, giving them privacy.

 

 

 

Sleep became a problem.

Natasha was used to having trouble sleeping. Nightmares were an old friend. They returned with a vengeance her first few weeks back at The Compound, and as a result she was so surly and snappish with everyone who came across her path, that she was often left completely alone.

Her injuries didn't help. She couldn't walk thanks to her knee being in a cast, and she couldn't use crutches or even push her own wheelchair because of her shoulder. Tony or Pepper, she knew, would have gotten her a motorized one if she asked, but she had barely seen them since Tony woke up.

She spent her time cleaning her weapons the best she could with one good arm, and reading.

Rhodey's not so subtle hints that she should talk to someone went ignored.

One evening when she was feeling particularly pissy, she made Vision fetch an old flip phone in her dresser drawer. 

She spent the next hour screaming at Nick Fury.

Fury was one of the only people in the world who wasn't afraid of Natasha, so he let her rant. After she finished cursing at him for not letting her know that Coulson was alive, he informed her it was a need to know basis, and she hadn't needed to know. All the rude remarks and disdain that comment ignited rolled right off of him. He told her nearly every agent in what was left of Shield had volunteered to help the Black Widow after the video of her teeth getting yanked out had been released, and Coulson had not been quiet about wanting to lead the charge.

"Even Steve Rogers himself was about to blow the damn door down, Romanoff, but I thought Stark might appreciate Coulson being the one to offer assistance instead. Plus, he can get around easier what with being dead and not a wanted fugitive."

She didn't have a good comeback for that.

"I'm quite glad you were able to take out Belova," Fury continued. "But Romanoff? Next time a captor is viciously yanking your teeth out and torturing you, stop smiling at them. I know it was meant to be intimidating, but that's creepy as hell."

That startled a laugh out of her. 

"I'll keep that in mind. Tell Phil not to be a stranger now that I know he's among the living."

She hung up, and stared at the phone for a moment. Then she picked it back up.

"Barton's Barn."

"Hi, Clint."

"Oh, the woman who thinks it's funny to make my heart nearly stop beating because she doesn't know how to relax at a fundraiser. Shit, Natasha, are you all right? Do you have any idea how worried Laura and I have been?"

For the first time since she'd come home, Natasha relaxed a little, and took comfort in talking to her best friend.

It helped. Yelling at Fury and chatting with Clint helped. But she still couldn't sleep.

 

 

A month after the disastrous fundraiser, Natasha managed to make her way to the living room. Her arm was out of the sling, and her knee was now in just a brace, so she was able to slowly meander down the hall, intent on watching a movie. It was just past 1am, and if she had to stay in her room a second more and watch the time tick by she would lose her mind.

The couch was the most comfortable thing she'd ever seen, and she sank into it with relish, asking FRIDAY to turn on whatever action movie Tony had most recently required.

At some point, she fell asleep.

Yelena stood over her. Her smile was as sharp as the dagger in her hands, and she twirled it around, before dragging it lightly across Natasha's chin.

_"This is going to hurt."_

She woke with a choked gasp, heart thundering. It felt like an elephant sat on her chest, and she couldn't catch her breath---couldn't drag in the air she needed because that damn smile was still flashing through her mind and her neck still felt like there was a collar on it. Even though Coulson had taken it off and destroyed it before she left the mansion.

"Tasha."

She flinched, the nickname making her fingers clench because the last time she had heard it Tony was dying, and it was her fault, and she had never felt more helpless...

"No, no, Nat, I'm not dying. Look at me. Look at me, Romanoff, it's just a dream. Come on, you gotta breathe, La Femme Nikita. Help me out here, take a few breaths. There you go."

Leaning forward, Nat rubbed her hands over her face while her breathing steadied. Then dropped them to stare at Tony.

He was in a rumpled Van Halen t-shirt and black athletic pants, and his hair stuck up a bit at the back, like he'd slept fitfully on it. He probably had, the clock FRIDAY displayed showed it was 3:30 in the morning. Circles lined his eyes, and he had clearly lost weight since they had left for the fundraiser.

But he was up and moving around. Not dead. And that was the only thing that mattered.

He crouched down in front of her, between the couch and the coffee table. "Hi, Lazybones."

"Hi." And suddenly, of all the random goddamn things, Natasha felt shy. She couldn't handle being scrutinized by those gentle dark brown eyes. Those eyes had seen too much, knew her demons and her nightmares far better than anyone else ever would.

Shifting, she fidgeted with the knee she'd propped on the table. "Shouldn't you be resting or something?"

He winced. "Oh my God, please don't rat me out, Romanoff. I can't handle being cooped up anymore, I'm going insane."

She smiled. "I know the feeling."

His eyebrow quirked. "So I hear. Rhodey says you won't let anyone say boo to you."

"That's not---"

"Even the kid is afraid you'll take his head off if he says more than three words to you. The kid, Nat. That's like kicking a puppy." He shook his head.

She glowered at him. "I have not been that bad."

"So you say," he said, shifting a little. He winced again, but this time she had a feeling it was because his injuries were still paining him, despite his need to roam around The Compound.

"Sit on the actual couch, you idiot, before you hurt yourself and Pepper kills us."

"Oh, I'm allowed to sit on my own couch now? Thank you, Your Highness, you're so gracious."

"Shut up."

He grinned and slowly sat down next to her. 

"You're getting around pretty well," she commented.

"Well I haven't been allowed to do much other than binge-watch cheesy TV shows and do physical therapy. Getting shot in the chest multiple times is a bitch."

"You'll be in the workshop and with your bots before you know it."

"I was in there earlier," he confessed, making her laugh. "And if you tell Rhodey or Pepper, I'll tell them you've been skipping your own therapy sessions."

Her laughter died. "Traitor."

He nudged her good shoulder with his. "You should talk to someone, Nat. And stop trying to push everyone away. They want to help."

"I'm not exactly the poster child for spilling my feelings, Tony," she said moving up and away from him.

"Me either," he said simply. "But I'm working on it. Rhodey and Pepper won't let me push them away, anyway."

"That's nice, Stark, but they're your people, of course they won't."

"They wouldn't let you, either, if you'd stop pushing them away."

Her throat tightened. "That's nice, Stark," she repeated, "but they're your people. Not mine."

Her best friend was a thousand miles away, and she didn't want to risk his family any more than his dumb ass already had. And the one person she thought could be more than a friend had vanished from her life three years ago.

"Okay." Tony held his hand out, waited. "I'll be your person."

She looked at his outstretched hand, eyes burning. "You don't have to do that, Stark."

"I know that Romanoff, I'm a billionaire. I don't have to do anything I don't want to."

She rolled her eyes. But she held Tony's hand and settled back on the couch next to him. "I'm not good at talking about my feelings."

"Wanna go sit in the shower and see if that helps?" 

She smiled, recalling the time she had sat with him after one of his panic attacks. "Maybe later. Sitting on the shower floor with this knee wouldn't be a smart idea."

"Good call. Wanna watch a movie?"

"Sure."

She settled in as he ordered FRIDAY to play a film.

"Die Hard?" she asked.

"Is there any other movie?"

Laughing, she rested her head on his shoulder. "I guess not."

He squeezed her hand, dropped his head on top of hers. "We're gonna be alright, Romanoff."

And because it was Tony, she believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!


End file.
